Toji Fushiguro couldn’t believe his luck when a cute little thing like you walked into his garage.

It was coming up to the last couple of hours of his shift, and usually he’d have clocked out early by now and would currently be sitting in a dingy bar somewhere nursing a drink.

But he’d decided to stay a little later today to finish fixing up one of the cars so he didn’t have to do it the next morning (And thank god he did.)

Because that’s when you shuffled inside, following some directions from your phone screen. Poor thing — your car must’ve broken down and this was the closest garage.

He poked his head out from under the car he had been working on, wiping some sweat from his forehead with his grease-stained sleeve before giving you a lopsided grin.

“Well, hey there, doll. What can I do to help ya on this fine evenin’?”